The Meek One
by Greaserfreak
Summary: His parents abused him, the socs jumped him, and his friends felt like they had to protect him. But Johnny had a strength that most people don't have. Starts a year before the events in the book and is told from Johnny's POV.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you know what you remind me of, Johnny?" Ponyboy Curtis asked me one afternoon as we laid side by side in the vacant lot looking at the clouds.

"What?" I asked as I sat up and looked at him.

"You remind me of a lost puppy that's been kicked too many times," Ponyboy said.

I stared at him. For a thirteen year old kid, he knew how to make you think. Maybe because he was always thinking himself. He was the only one out of all our friends who enjoyed reading and watching movies. Even his two older brothers weren't into reading a good book or seeing what was playing at the movie house. Just Pony did, and I sometimes went with him because he took the time to explain things to me until I understood them.

At fifteen, I was two years older than Ponyboy. But very few would be able to guess it. I look younger than fifteen and it bugs me.

"Ponyboy, mom says to come home now," The oldest Curtis brother, Darry, yelled. He stood at the edge of the lot, his hands in his pockets. "Hey, Johnny."

"Hey," I muttered back as Ponyboy and I joined him. I'm very quiet around people, even my friends. Ponyboy's the same way, but for some reason, we can talk to each other. Ponyboy might only be thirteen, but he's a good friend to have.

Darry gave Ponyboy a playful slap on the back and looked at me. I knew he was really looking at the old jean jacket I was wearing. The jacket was faded and had several worn spots on it. I got the jacket when I was thirteen and have worn it almost everyday since. Not because I was cold; but because it hid the bruises and any other marks that were from my old man.

"Darry, do you think you'll ever get to go to college?" Ponyboy asked.

"Sure, if I continue to save my money from that construction job. I might even be able to go to college next year," Darry replied.

"I don't think I'll go to college," I said softly. "I'm too dumb."

Ponyboy looked at me. "No you're not. You're just as smart as anyone else."

I gave Pony a small grin. He was the only person I knew who said I was smart and he made me feel like it. That is until I went home or had to sit in a class at school that everyone except me understood.

"Johnny, would you like to have dinner with us?" Mrs. Curtis asked once we were inside the house. "I made plenty to eat."

I liked Mrs. Curtis. She was nice looking with her long dark golden blond hair that went half way down her back and her greenish-gray eyes that matched Ponyboy's. Her personality was nothing like my own mom's; Mrs. Curtis was the most loving and caring person I know. She's the only adult who doesn't see us boys as a bunch of hoods. No, she sees me and the other three boys who her sons spend time with as people with potential. To her, we were a bunch of somebodies instead of a group of nobodies; which is how most adults in town treated us.

"Johnny!" Mr. Curtis looked up at me from the arm chair. "How's school going for you this year?"

"Um, okay," I replied softly.

Mr. Curtis had the same happy personality as Sodapop did. He was always trying to get us boys to laugh. Plus, he was always available for us boys to talk to. For most of us, Mr. Curtis was the only father figure we had. Sure, he was Darry, Soda and Ponyboy's real father. But in many ways, he was a father to myself as well as to Steve, Two-Bit and Dally.

"Mom, could you look at my history homework?" Soda asked, coming out of the room that he shared with Darry.

Mrs. Curtis took the notebook Soda was holding along with his history book. There's a rule in the Curtis' house that Soda has to do his homework before he does anything else. This is because he has more trouble with his classes than Darry and Ponyboy do. If their parents hadn't made the rule, Soda might have given up on his school work entirely. I already knew that he resented it when teachers asked him why he wasn't like Darry. To Soda, school was just a cruel reminder that he had two brothers who could bring home As and Bs while he struggled to get Cs.

"Johnny, do you want to see the picture I drew of Dally?" Ponyboy asked me.

I shrugged and followed him to his room where he handed me his sketch book. The picture of Dally was well drawn. It was better than anything I could have drawn.

"Boys, supper's ready!" Mrs. Curtis yelled.

"You better fill your plate now, Johnny," Mr. Curtis said as he put his arm across Darry's shoulders. "Once my sons get to the food, there might not be anything left."

Side by side, Mr. Curtis and Darry looked more like brothers than father and son. Only their eyes were different. Darry's were a pale blue-green, while Mr. Curtis had the same lively brown eyes as Sodapop.

I like eating at the Curtis' home. I like everything at the Curtis' home. There was no one screaming at me or hitting me. When I was there, I felt like I belonged there. I felt like Mr. and Mrs. Curtis cared about me. Which is more than I can say about my own parents.

If I had gone home for dinner, I probably would have had a peanut butter sandwhich and a glass of water. I usually don't spend much time at home because of how my folks treat me. Ever since I can remember, my fatherhas hit me and my mother screams at me things I can't understand because she's usually so drunk she can't talk right. My first memory is actually of my father hitting me with a leather belt when I was three. Not exactly the best memory to have, but not everyone has to live in a home like mine.

"Do you have enough to eat, Johnny?" Mrs. Curtis asked me.

I nodded as I put another fork full of corn into my mouth.

"There's plenty of food left," Mrs. Curtis told me. "Help yourself if you're still hungry."

Mr. Curtis gave my shoulder a squeeze. "That's right, Johnny. Don't be shy."

"Steve got a part time job at the DX station," Soda announced. "He said that he might be able to talk his boss into giving me a job, too after my birthday next month."

"I'm not sure if I'd want you working with school and homework," Mrs. Curtis said.

"Steve says they need more help on weekends," Soda replied.

"I'm not sure if I'd want you working either," Mr. Curtis told Soda. "But if you bring your grades up, your mom and I will think about it."

"Okay," Soda said. He was smiling because Steve and him did everything together. But I could tell from the sound of his voice that he wasn't sure if he could get better grades. Ponyboy could sense it too, because he gave Soda a sympathetic grin from across the table.

Dinner was over much too soon and I found myself saying good-bye to the Curtis family. The su had already set and there was a cool breeze blowing against my face as I slowly walked home, wishing that Dally or even Two-Bit was walknig with me.

It didn't take long to get to my house. The siding is in bad shape and the steps leading to the front door are broken and wobbled under my feet as I walked up them and stood on the porch looking at the patches of dirt and dead weeds that my parents call a yard.

Inside wasn't much better with the broken furniture that resulted from my parents' many fights and the walls that needed to be painted. even my own room was in bad shape. There was a hole in the wall above my bed because my father had once thrown a small table across the room at me. The few clothes I had were laid on the floor because the rod in the closet was broken I don't have a dresser. I don't even have a desk. I was lucky enough to have a bed.

My old man was passed out on the couch, a beer bottle hanging in his half opened hand. There was no sign of my mother being home. She was probably out somewhere buying more beer and whatever else my folks drank. I figured I had a few hours before I'd hear the familar shouts of one of their drunken arguments. Maybe, I'd be able to get a little sleep in my own bed for a change.

A little sleep as usual was not meant to happen. I had only been in my room for ten or fifteen minutes when I heard the front door slam, or to be more accurate, fall off the worn hinges. I think I'm the only person in my family who carefully shuts the door so it won't fall off. I heard my mother scream at my father, but I couldn't make out the words. This was followed by the familar sound of my old man throwing the beer bottle across the room and more shouting as the bottle shattered against whatever it had hit.

I changed my shirt and quietly left my room. I headed for the back door, careful not to step on any of the squeeky floor boards. Fortunately, I managed to get out of the house without my folks noticing that I was there. I had saved myself from another beating.

I stood on the corner of my block, wondering where I should go. Eventually, I settled on the vacant lot where I had been a few hours earlier with Ponyboy. The weather was still nice enough that I could spend the night outside. And if I had to, I could always go to the Curtis' home again or even Two-Bit's place.


	2. Chapter 2

When I got closer to the vacant lot, I saw a dark figure sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. As I approached the person, I realized with a sense of relief that it was Dally. "Hey, Dally."

Dally looked at me as I sat down next to him and silently handed me a cigarette. Even in the dark, Dally looked tough. His pale blond hair was blowing slightly in the breeze, causing it to fall over his light blue eyes. He shook his head to get the hair out of his face and turned to me.

"Looks like I'm not the only one without a place to stay tonight," Dally commented.

I just looked at him without bothering to reply.

Dally sighed. "Don't tell me you're planning on sleeping out here in the lot, Johnnycake."

I was, but I knew I couldn't say that to Dally. So, I kept my mouth shut while Dally stood up.

"Come on, Johnny," Dally said as he pulled me to my feet. "Let's go see what's happening at Buck's."

"I thought you didn't have a place to stay," I said to Dally as we started to walk down the street. There were a few street lamps lining the street, but there wasn't much light unless you were standing under one of them.

"I don't," Dally replied. "But maybe I can talk Buck intoletting me use one of his rooms."

I dropped the cigarette I had been smoking and watched as it rolled down the street and into a gutter. I knew that Dally would manage to spend the night in one of Buck's rooms. Dally always got what he wanted. Probably because to him, 'no' was never an answer. Most people end up witha fist in the face if they tell Dally no. It's his way and only his way.

"You should stay at Buck's tonight, too," Dally was saying to me as we walked.

"Or I could stay at Two-Bit's or Ponyboy's," I replied. I knew I was welcome at their homes at anytime and Steve's too if he was there. But, I wasn't sure if Buck would be as welcoming and I'm not one to argue if he isn't.

When we arrived at Buck's, we were greeted by the sound of Hank Williams playing. Not exactly my choice of music and apparently it wasn't Dally's either because he mumbled a few words about Hank Williams as he opened the door to let us inside.

"Buck, let me stay in one of the rooms tonight," Dally said as we approached the bar.

Buck looked up with a grin and I remembered that Ponyboy had once told me that Buck resembled a horse when he grinned because of his buck teeth. Seeing Buck grin for myself, I realized that Ponyboy was right.

"What if I don't let you?" Buck asked.

Dally got up close to Buck so that their noses were almost touching and glared at him. "Give me and my buddy a place to stay or you'll get a beating you won't forget."

"Okay, the two of you can stay upstairs," Buck said. Like others, he knew better than to mess with Dallas Winston.

"See Johnny, I told you I could talk Buck into letting us use one of his rooms," Dally said to me. He looked back at Buck. "Hey Buck, get my friend a coke."

Buck put a coke in front of me and a beer in front of Dally. "So Dally, what have you been doing this fine evening?"

"Can the small talk, Buck," Dally snapped. "What's going on with the Slash J.?"

"They want you at the rodeo on Saturday," Buck replied.

"You didn't fix the race, did you?" Dally asked.

"Not yours," Buck replied. He learned the hard way not to fix any of Dally's races. For some reason, Dally likes his races to be honest and fair even if it isn't in his favor. When it comes to everything else, Dally has to have his way no matter what. "Your friend there doesn't seem to talk much."

I finished my coke and looked at Dally. He was finishing his beer and motioning for Buck to give him another one. Which Buck did, no questions asked.

"Johnny talks," Dally said in answer to Buck's comment. "He's just quieter than most people."

Buck gave me a funny look before leaving Dally and me to sit by the bar. Seeing how he acted, Icould see why Ponyboy didn't like him. I could also see why Dally could push him around so easily.

"You can head upstairs when you want to," Dally told me. "The bedrooms aren't that hard to find."

I nodded and got off the stool I had been sitting on. I was tired and more than ready to get some sleep. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure kid," Dally replied. "Man, I wish Buck would get some music that doesn't have Hank Williams."

I headed up the stairs and found a small bedroom down the hall. It looked like I could have the room to myself with the exception of the golden retriever that was sleeping on the floor. But I figured the dog would be okay company as I pushed the door until it was only open a crack in case the dog decided to leave. Then, I pulled off my shoes and laid down on the bed fully clothed. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. Even with all the noise going on downstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

"Johnny, Are you coming with us?" Two-Bit asked the next day. It was noon and half the school was on their lunch period. "We're going to the Dingo."

"Of course he's coming with us," Soda said. He looked at Steve. "Right?"

Steve nodded. "We can't let Johnny stay here with all the socs."

I don't have any money on me," I said softly.

That's okay," Two-Bit told me. "I'll pay for your lunch."

I looked at him. "You don't have to do that, Two-Bit, I know you don't have much money either."

"Don't worry about it, Johnny," Two-Bit replied. By then we had reached his car, so I just shrugged my shoulders and got in the front seat next to Two-Bit.

"When I get a car, I'll drive us to wherever we decide to have lunch," Steve said from the back seat where he sat next to Soda. He already had his drivers license. Now all he needed was a car.

"I'll drive, too," Soda spoke up. "I'll be getting my license soon."

"You need a car, Soda," Steve told him. "You can't drive without one."

"I have to bring my grades up anyway," Soda sighed. "My parents are really starting to get on me about school work. I wish they could understand that I'm just not smart like Darry and Pony are."

"I wish my parents could be concerned about my grades," I said. "At least yours care enough to want you to do well."

"Speaking of your parents," Soda said slowly. "My mom wanted to call the fuzz last night because of their arguing. We could hear them at our house."

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "I ended up going to Buck's with Dally."

"Speaking of Dally," Two-Bit glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Why didn't he come to school today?"

"He said he didn't feel like going today," I replied. "He had more important things to do."

Two-Bit pulled into the Dingo and found a place to park. There were only two cars besides the one we were in. The Dingo doesn't get that busy on week days because most of it's business is in school. But on the weekends, you were lucky if you could get your car into the parking lot much less find a space to park in.

A girl with a blond ponytail that swayed side to side as she walked approached the car. She was one of the car hops that worked there and was not much older than us. "Whatt can I get for you?"

"Your number," Two-Bit replied with a flirtacious grin.

The girl blushed and I felt my own cheeks get hot. Leave it to Two-Bit to ask for a girl's number whenhe didn't know who she was. If a girl had blond hair, Two-Bit wouldn't hesitate to ask for her number and to flirt with her.

"So, are you going to give me your number?" Two-Bit asked. "Or will your boyfriend get jealous?"

"I'm supposed to be taking your order," The girl said, trying to avoid answering Two-Bit's questions.

"But, you never answered my question," Two-Bit replied.

The girl blushed again. "Give me your order and I'll think about giving you an answer."

"Well, I guess it's a deal," Two-bit said. He gave her his order and the rest of us did the same. Once she was gone, Two-Bit turned to us. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Soda agreed and Steve nodded. "Don't you think she's cute, Johnny?"

I felt my ears get hot as I tried to think of something to say. I never know what to say about girls and I'm too shy to actually talk to one. Suddenly, I was wishing that Ponyboy was with us, but he was still in junior high. So, I just looked at the hole in my jeans and hoped that someone would change the subject or thar our food would come.

"It's okay to think that a girl's cute, Johnny," Two-Bit said. "They won't bite if you do."

"I know," I mumbled as the girl returned with our order. I unwrapped my sandwhich and startedeating it while Two-Bit went back to flirting with the girl.

"Hey Johnny," Soda said and I turned to look at him. "Pony has a track meet at his school today. Do you want to come with me to watch him?"

I nodded while Steve looked at Soda. "The kid's running track?"

"Yeah," Soda replied. "Do you want to come, too?"

"No, I think I have to do something," Steve answered.

"What do you have to do that's more important than watching Pony at his track meet?" Two-Bit asked, joining the conversation. "I'll go with."

"Why do we always have to watch what that kid does?" Steve grumbled. "It's not like we don't have anything better to do."

Soda sighed and glared at Steve; something you don't see him do often. "That kid is my brother and I want to be there to cheer him on. If you don't want to come with, that's fine. But that's no reason to be saying mean things about him."

"That's right," Two-Bit agreed. "Pony's a good kid. He'd be there to watch you, Steve."

"Probably because he'd beg Soda to go," Steve said through a mouthful of his double cheeseburger.

"He doesn't ask to join us," Soda told Steve. "I invite him to come along."

That was true. Soda was always trying to include Ponyboy. Even when we were younger he would try to include Pony in our football games or invite him to go trick or treating with us on Halloween. If it weren't for Soda, Pony and I wouldn't be friends. But it always bugged Steve that Pony always got invited to cme along.

Two-Bit and Dally were also known for inviting Pony to come along. Although, I think Dally sometimes invites Pony because he knows I'll go with if Pony goes. And Two-Bit sort of feels like an older brother to Ponyboy since he's known Pony since he was a baby. I guess they seem kind of protective of Pony. Just like they're protective of me. Only Pony's the youngest and I have a bad home life.

"Well, I guess we should head back to school," Two-Bit said, starting the engine of his car. He looked over at me. "Are you ready for a few more hours of school, Johnnycake?"

"I'm thrilled," I said sarcastically and Two-Bit grinned.

"Yeah, me too," Soda chimed in as he reached forward and messed up my hair. "Johnny and I get to sit through another history lecture together."

"Sounds like fun," Two-Bit remarked as he turned his car onto the street.

Steve laughed and soon he and Soda were talking about his new job at the DX station. The discussion a few minutes earlier about Ponyboy was forgotten or at least pushed aside. Not that I was surprised. Soda and Steve rarely get upset with each other; and when they do, they're quick to get over it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Get me another beer, boy," That was probably the closest my father ever got to speaking to me at home. The few times we did do something together, and believe me there are only a few, he'd try to make small talk so he'd look like a good father. Usually, the only time we went anywhere together was when there was some meeting of Cherokee Indians taking place.

Both of my parents are full blodded Cherokee Indian. I guess that makes me a Cherokee, too. I don't have much interest in the meetings or my family's history. But, my father always insists that I go with. Our Cherokee back ground is the only thing he takes pride in.

I handed my father a cold bottle of beer from the ice box only to have it shoved back into my hand.

"Are you stupid?" My father snapped. "Open it before giving it to me."

I removed the cap from the bottle, cutting my finger on the cap's metal edge. Then, I handed the beer back to my father who took a drink and grumbled something about how my mother should return homeand make dinner soon because he was ready to eat. He took another drink and looked at me through narrowed eyes.

"You need to do something about that hair, boy. It makes you look like a slob," My father said.

I reached up and touched my heavily greased hair. it was getting long and always ended up in my face, but I liked it the way it was.

"It looks like you haven't washed it in weeks," My old man commented. "You put so much junk in it."

"It's hair grease," I mumbled.

"Grease?" He looked up at me. "Grease belongs on cars, not on hair. And look at your clothes. What the hell is wrong with you?"

I didn't respond. I knew my clothes had holes and stains, but my father's own clothing wasn't much beter. However, I knew better than to say that.

"Get me another beer," My fathe said, throwing the now empty bottle I had just given to him at me. I quickly moved out of the way, barely missing getting hit by the flying bottle which shattered against the wall just under the only picture of me that is visible in the entire house. In it, I'm probably two or three and I'm dressed like an Indian.

"Look at you, sitting there like this place will clean itself," My mother said walking inside the house.

"That's the woman's job," My fathe told her. "Hurryup and fix my dinner."

My mother glared at him. "Fix your own dinner!"

I started to leave the room; not wanting to endup in the midst of another argument. The last thing I wanted was to get hollered at or beaten. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough.

"And you," My mother said, pointing at me. "You are nothing but a mistake. Do you hear me? a mistake. Things would be better without you. You are a disgrace. Just like those hoods you spend time with. I wish I had never given birth to you."

She ws screaming as usual. I don't think she can talk any quieter and if she can, I never hear it. All she does at home is scream or yell.

The neighbors gave up on trying to convince my parents to control their behavior. Now, they just ignore the fighting and the shouting. If they can pretend that the stuff that goes on in my house isn't happening then they can go on with their own lives guilt free.

I'm glad my friends don't ignore what goes on at my place and as I finally managed to get out of the house, Steve just happened to be walking past. He slowed down so I could catch up with him. His eyes held an angry glare as he looked at my house and he was shaking his head.

"Glory Johnny, I don't know why you put up with that all the time," Steve told me once we were past my house. "I would have run away by now if I had to deal with that garbage."

Steve's home life wasn't much better than mine. His father says things about him like my mother says about me, and, Steve spends at least two nights a week at the Curtis' home. The only difference between our home lives was Steve's parent's didn't physically hurt him so he had no visible marks on his body. But I knew his father's words hurt him more than he showed. After all, I dealt with it myself. I don't always show others that I'm hurting, why should Steve?

"I've thought about it," I said softly as Steve lit up a cigarette and offered me one.

"Huh?" Steve looked at me as I lit the cigarette I had took.

"I've thought about running away," I said. "Many times."

"Why don't you?" Steve asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess there's a small part of me that wants to believe that my folks will stop their behavior and will say they're sorry."

Steve sighed. "My old man told me he was sorry three days ago and gave me five dollars. Only to tell me to get out and never come back again tonight."

I gave him a sympathetic look and he laughed. "What?"

"I should be giving you that sympathetic look, Johnny," Steve said. "Your home life is much worse than mine. Let's go see if we can stay at the Curtis' home tonight. Dally's with Tim Shephard tonight so I doubt he'll be around."

I remembered that I had told the others about Dally and me staying at Buck's the night before. It didn't surprise me that Dally would be with Tim; probably causing some sort of trouble. That's what Dally was known for and he liked it that way.

When we got to the Curtis' home, Steve opened the door and waited for me to go inside. We never have to knock at their place; although I sometimes do just in case. It was obvious when Steve and I walked in that they had just finished eating dinner, which was a reminder that I hadn't eaten since lunch.

"Well, look at what the cat dragged in," Mr. Curtis said. "What brings you two here on this fine evening?"

Mrs. Curtis swatted his head with a dish towel and laughed. "Leave them alone, Darrel. You both need a place to stay, don't you?"

"Johnny can stay in my room," Ponyboy spoke up. He rinned at me and looked at his parents.

"Okay," Mrs. Curtisagreed. "But remember, it's still a school night. I don't want you up late talking."

"We won't," I promised.

Mrs. Curtis gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I know you won't."

"Is Steve going to stay in our room?" Soda asked while pointing towards Darry.

Darry groaned. "No, you two will stay up all night and I have to go to work in the morning. I'd rather sleep in Pony's room with him and Johnny."

"I'm sorry, Soda, but your brother's right," Mrs. Curtis said. Besides, you have an English test tomorrow and need your rest."

"You can go do something together, though," Mr. Curtis said. "It's still early."

"Let's go to the Dingo," Soda said to Steve.

"You just ate!" Mrs. Curtis laughed as Soda and Steve walked out the door. She turned to me. "Did you eat dinner? There's some stew if you're hungry."

I walked to the kitchen where Ponyboy had gone to start his homework. and helped myself to the stew. Normally, I don't just help myself to someone else's food, even if they say it's okay. But I knew I could at the the Curtis' home. They would have insisted that I have some of the stew until I took some, anyway.

"What are you doing?" I asked Ponyboy as I sat down across from him.

"Algebra," Pony mumbled. He looked out the doorway and yelled, "Hey Darry, can you explain this to me?"

Darry walked into the kitchen and said to me, "Isn't that good stew, Johnny?"

I nodded as he sat down next to Ponyboy and went over the assignment with him. The two of them were soon laughing and talking about what they did that day and I wondered if I would have had that kind of relationship with my siblings if my parents had had more kids. But then I decided that it was probably a good thing that my folks didn't have more kids. I'd hate to think that someone else would have to go through what I do.

"Johnny, do you have homework?" Darry asked. "I could help you too, if you want."

I shook my head. "I left it at school. I get special help during my study hall, anyway."

I stood up and put the bol in the sink before going into the living room where Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were watching 'Lassie'. Mrs. Curtis was crotcheting something while she watched the television and patted the couch next to her when she saw me.

"You're stronger than you think, Johnny," Mrs. Curtis told me as I sat down. "You can get through anything."

I just looked at her. Wondering what she was talking about.

"Not many people can live in a house with parents like yours and not be angry themselves," Mrs. Curtis said. "Especially in this neighborhood. Trust me, Johnny,you're a strong person because of it. You might not think so, but you are."

I turned my atention to the television and thought about what Mrs. Curtis just said. She was right about me not feeling strong. I felt anything but strong. But she was also right about me not being angry. I was more sad with how my folks were than angry. I was disappointed that my folks weren't more like Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. But, I couldn't get angry with them. Even though there are times when I want to and should be angry with them.


	5. Chapter 5

Ponyboy and I were walking to the park a few days later because we had nothing better to do. Besides, we like to watch the little kids play. Their lives seem so much easier than ours. Certainly much easier than mine.

As we walked, we came across Dally who was leaning against the side of an old car, watching us. "Where are the two of you going?"

I knew Ponyboy was a little afraid of Dally, but since I don't usually speak up, he answered for us. "We're going to the park."

"The park," Dally repeated thoughtfully as he lit up a cigarette. Then he got serious. "Do you know where I spent the past two days?"

Ponyboy and I both shook our heads.

"I spent the past two days in the cooler," Dally said as if it were no big deal.

"Really?" Pony asked. "How come?"

I was at the bowling alley with Tim and this guy was walking in front of us," Dally explained. "I told him to move, but he didn't. So I pushed him out of the way."

"Which started a fight and they called the fuzz," Pony finished.

Dally gave him an impressed grin. "Good guess."

The three of us walked the rest of the way to the park in silence. Dally bent down at one point to pick up a handful of rocks and started to throw them at any car that went past us. While he did this, Pony shook his head and acted like dally wasn't with us. I don't think Pony likes Dally that much. Personally, I kind of admire him.

"Glory, look at all those little kids," Dally said when we reached the park.

"Well, it is Saturday," Ponyboy mumbled.

"I can't stand little kids," Dally grumbled. But he continued to walk with Pony and me anyway. When we passed a little boy who was demanding that the other kids do as he says or else, Dally gave a short laugh. "Now there is a kid I could like."

"Sounds like a spoiled brat to me," Pony whispered so that only I could hear him. It wasn't like Pony to say something like that; but the kid was being very insistant on getting his way even though the others didn't seem to thrilled about it.

"He's just a kid," I said with a shrug. "Maybe he hasn't learned about sharing or taking turns yet."

"Maybe you're right," Pony agreed as we continued to walk.

"There's not much action here," Dally commented. He lit up another cigarette and held the pack out to Pony and me. I took one, but Pony just looked at the pack as if he were debating on whether or not to take one. "Well, do you want one or not?"

Pony gave me a quick glance before slowly taking a cigarette from the pack. He had never smoked before and it was obvious that he was uncerrtain of what to do even though he had seen the rest of us smoke for a few years now. In fact, his eyes wandered around nervously as if he were expecting someone to yell at him for doing something bad.

"Don't tell me you're going to chicken out, kid," Dally said after handing me his lighter. He was looking at Ponyboy impatiently. "Look, everyone in the gang smokes. Even your brother, Sodapop."

"You don't have to smoke if you don't want to, Pony," I said soflty and I started to hand the lighter back to Dally. But, Pony reached out and slowly took the lighter from my hand. After a few tries, he got the cigarette lit. Then he inhaled and started to cough.

"You'll get used to it," Dally said. "I coughed the first time I had a cancer stick, too. but you seem to be getting the hang of it."

I nodded in agreement as I took a drag off my own cigarette. The first time I had a cigarette was when I was nine. it had fallen out of a hole in my mother's coat pocket and landed on the kitchen floor. I snatched it up before she could find out that it had found it's way out of her pocket. Like Pony, I had coughed the first time I inhaled when I smoked that first cigarette and it had made my eyes water. But it didn't stop me from smoking more. In fact, I'd been smoking ever since and I had a feeling that Pony was going to continue smoking, too. I just wasn't sure if he was going to do it around his family any time soon.

"Let's go see what Steve's doing at the DX," Dally yawned. "It will probably be better than staying here."

Ponyboy dropped his cigarette and silently followed Dally. I also followed Dally because when he suggested doing something, you did it.

"Hey, Johnnycake!" Soda greeted me when we got to the DX station. I guess he had the same idea Dally had because he waved at Steve who was helping a customer before putting an arm across Pony's shoulders. "Where have you been?"

"We just went to the park," Pony replied.

Steve joined us, frowning slightly at Ponyboy. He likes to act like he doesn't like Ponyboy, but I really think he likes having Pony around. It just bugs him when Soda invites Pony t join them all the time and I realized that he was thinking that Ponyboy was there because Soda was.

"Dally wanted to come here and see what you were doing," I said. "Pony and I just came with. We won't stay long."

"That's okay," Steve told me. "I'm on my break now anyway."

"So, this is what you do," Dally said, looking around with a bored expression on his face.

"They let me do car repairs, too," Steve said with a slight grin. He has always had an attraction to cars. And to be able to work with cars has been a dream of his ever since I can remember. "Do you have a cigarette?"

Dally tossed him the half empty pack of Kools. "Does anyone else want one?"

Soda and I both shook our heads while Ponyboy silently held his hand out for the pack, which Steve handed to him with raised eyebrows. Even Soda looked surprised, but I was expecting that.

"When did you start smoking?" Steve asked Ponyboy after handing him his lighter.

"The kid started at the park," Dally said with pride. "To be honest, I didn't think he'd want to smoke again. I was expecting him to be like Darry and want to stay away from the cancer sticks."

"Don't let mom and dad catch you smoking," soda told Ponyboy. "They weren't to thrilled when they found out that I smoke on occassion. Remember, mom grounded me for a month."

"I remember," Ponyboy replied. "You won't tell them, will you?"

"No, I won't tell," Soda promised.

"None of us will," I agreed looking at Steve and Dally. "Right?"

"Sure," Dally sighed.

Steve just shrugged. If Soda wasn't going to tell, he wouldn't either. He knew that you stayed loyal to the members of the gang and Pony was one of us.

"Thanks Johnny," Pony said to me.

"No problem," I grinned at him. "It's not like we haven't been worried abot getting caught at some point. Besides in our neighborhood, you were bound to start sooner or later."

"What about Two-Bit and Darry?" Pony asked.

"I don't think you need to worry about Two-Bit," Soda assured Pony. "And if you want, I'll talk to Darry. But I'm pretty sure he won't tell mom or dad either."

I knew Soda was right. Two-Bit knew how to keep his trap shut if he had to and would probably go out and shop lift a pack of cigarettes for Ponyboy once he found out. As far as Darry went, Soda knew how to talk him into or out of anything. I'm not sure how he managed to do it, but Soda always managed to have things turn out okay or at least make them seem better than they really were. He certainly knew how to make me feel better when I was having a bad day which was almost everyday. Soda was the gang's peacemaker whether he realized it or not, just like I was the pet, and I hoped he'd stay that way because we'd probably fall apart if he didn't.


	6. Chapter 6

Several days later, I was looking around the local record shop. No one else was with me because they all had other things to do. Normally, Two-Bit would have come with he probably would have found a way to leave the store with a record tucked under his shirt without anyone seeing it, but he had to watch his sister. So I went by myself and decided to look through the Elvis records, wishing that I had enough money on me to buy one.

"Can I help you find anything?" The store owner asked as he walked up to me with a smile plastered on his face. But I knew he wasn't trying to be friendly store owners are rarely friendly towards greasers. I could tell by the way his eyes suspiciously looked at me. Like he was expecting me to take one of the records and run out the door with it or suddenly pull a gun out of my jeans jacket and demand that he give me all the money in the register.

"No thanks," I said as politely as I could, wishing that he didn't have to stare at me like he was. I had just as much right to be there as anyone else. "I was just looking."

The owner gave me one more suspicious glance before returning to his position behind the counter. I could feel his eyes on me as I went back to looking through the records. But I didn't stay long. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the owner staring at me like I was a criminal, it made me feel like I really was a criminal and I wanted to just hang my head in shame event though I knew I wasn't doing anything wrong.

As I was leaving, a mother and her young daughter who was probably four or five were walking in. I held the door open for them and while the mother muttered, "thank you," she took her daughter's hand and hurried inside giving me a look that was part fear and part disgust. The little girl turned and smiled at me and I smiled back. She had no idea what it was like to have people stare at you because you dress or look a certain way. The kid was still innocent and I hoped for her sake that she could stay that way. Maybe by the time she's fifteen like me, people will learn how to accept each other instead of feeling that they have to judge each other.

As I started to walk down the street, I noticed more people giving me looks that made me want to get out of there as quickly as possible. Looks that clearly showed that they expected me to do something bad. One elderly lady even held her purse to her chest like she was trying to keep a newborn baby from getting cold. I wouldn't have blamed them if Dally had been with me. But, I'm nothing like Dally. Just because I'm a greaser doesn't mean I'm going to rob stores or jump people. That's not who I am at all. I'd rather help people than cause harm.

"Hey grease!" Some soc yelled out a car window as it went past, and the driver honked a few times, causing others to look to see what was going on.

I felt my face get hot as I turned and looked at where the car was now turning. I wouldn't mind having a car like that. It was a tuff looking Mustang. A blue one and probably brand new from the looks of it. It could have been a birthday gift for the soc driving the car. From what I hear, the socs have all kinds of money and can have anything they want. Their lives seem perfect compared to mine and my friends, I wonder if it's true.

After a minute or two of just standing there, I turned and continued to walk home. Knowing that I'd probably end up going somewhere else instead like the vacant lot or one of my friend's homes. I guess a small part of me hopes that I can go home for once and have a decent meal, maybe even a normal conversation with my folks, but I know it won't happen. Still, it would be nice.

The only time my parents ever acknowledge me is if they're hollering at me or if my old man is beating me with something. Sometimes I wonder if they care about me, even just a little, or do they only think that I'm some burden that they can't wait to get rid of. I told Dally this once and he made some comment about how he didn't care about what his folks thought so why should I care about what mine think? Maybe I care about what my folks think because I want them to accept me. I want them to care about me and maybe tell me that they love me once in a while. Unlike Dally, I can't go through life not caring about what people think. Especially when it comes to my folks or the gang. I care about them too much to not care about what they think.

I think that's why I like spending time with the Curtis family. Sure things weren't alway's perfect for them either, but at least they're not like my family. I don't think I've ever seen Mr. or Mrs. Curtis ever hit any of their kids. Sure, I've seen them get mad, usually when Soda brings home an _F_ or the time when Soda and Steve got caught skipping school so they could go to the stables. But, I've never seen them raise a hand to hit anyone. Even Steve has commented on how their family is nice compared to his. I know that the Curtis family is far from being the Cleavers on 'Leave it to Beaver' but for myself, Steve and even Dally, who would never admit it out loud, they are probably the closest thing to the ideal family that we will ever know. I probably wouldn't know what a caring family was like if I wasn't friends with Ponyboy and Sodapop.


	7. Chapter 7

"Johnny, get your lazy butt in here!" My mother yelled later that night. I had been in my room, trying to read a book that Ponyboy had let me borrow when she yelled for me to go out into the living room. Sighing, I tucked the book under my jacket and went to where my mother stood with her hands on her hips. "What do you see all over this floor?"

I knew she was talking about the broken glass from a broken beer bottle that had been thrown during a fight she had with my old man less than an hour before. The lamp was leaning against the wall where it looked like it was about to fall over, and a small table was turned upside down. It was the usual seen after an argument with the usual outcome.

""I'll tell you what I see," My mother continued. "I see a mess and a lazy no good son who would rather run around with a bunch of hoodlums than do any work around this house."

She was screaming and I knew that she could be heard down at the Curtis's house. Ponyboy had told me that once and it embarrassed me to know that my friends could hear her yelling at me. It's bad enough for me to have to listen to her screaming at me. But my friends and the rest of the neighborhood shouldn't have to hear it, too.

"I am sick and tired of coming home to a messy house!" My mother screamed, her face turning bright red like it always did when she yelled at me. "Do you hear me?"

I silently nodded. There wasn't much I could say. Besides, she was still yelling about a bunch of things that she was hacked off at. It wasn't just about the house being a mess, that was just her way of getting started. She yelled at me to clean up the mess, which I did while she continued to yell about anything she could think of.

"I don't know why you spend time running around with those hoodlums," She screamed and I focused on picking up the pieces of broken glass so I wouldn't have to look at her. My friends might be greasers but we are not hoodlums. "All they do is cause trouble, robbing stores and ending up in jail. What the hell is wrong with you? Why can't you have any decent friends?"

I stood up and silently threw the broken glass that I had picked up into the garbage can that was already overflowing in the kitchen. It always amazes and even mystifies my friends that I never yell back at my mother or take a swing at my old man in self-defense, but I can't bring myself to do that. Not even if I want to. It's not that I'm weak or afraid to do either of those things, I just think it's better to just do as I'm told, even if it means having a new bruise the next day. At least I know that I'm showing some respect to my folks even if they can't respect me.

"What is this?" My mother asked, picking up the book that had fallen out of my jacket while I was cleaning. "I know you're not reading this. You're too stupid to be able to read a book like like this."

"Ponyboy let me borrow it," I said softly. "He said I could take as long as I need to read it."

"He's the youngest Curtis boy, right?" I nodded. "Another no good little hood running the streets. I'm surprised he can read. Lord knows the others don't have much of an education. Here, take your stupid book and get out of my sight," My mother said, her voice hoarse from yelling. "You make me sick."

I reached out and took the book from her and walked out the front door. It was already dark out, but I figured that I could go to the vacant lot and try to read under the street lamp. If I wanted to, I could have gone to the Curtis's or even to Two-Bits, but I felt like being alone. Besides, I wanted to see if I could understand the book without Ponyboy explaining it to me.

When I got to the vacant lot, I sat down under the street lamp with my back up against the pole. Then I took the book out of my jacket and opened it to the second page where I had left off. I'm a slow reader and when I try to understand what I'm reading, I'm even slower. But I was determined to get through the first chapter even if it took me all night to read it.

The vacant lot probably isn't the safest place to be reading a book at night, but I usually end up spending the night there anyway so, it doesn't bother me too much. The only time I get really nervous is if an unfamilar car drives by because you don't know who's in it. But usually, it's Steve or Two-Bit who are driving around late at night or sometimes Dally if he manages to borrow a car from someone. Once in a while they'll insist that I go with them instead of spending the night sleeping on the mixture of grass and gravel which isn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on. But you get used to it.

I was almost done reading the apge I was on when I heard the familar whistle of our gang and Tim Shepard's. I returned it and looked up from the book to see who had been whistling. It was Two-Bit and as usual, he was grinning happily.

"Hey Two-Bit," I said when he reached me. "Where's your car?"

"It's at the DX waiting for the engine to get looked at," Two-Bit replied. "What do you have there?"

"It's one of Pony's books," I explained, holding it up so he could see the cover. "He's letting me borrow it for awhile."

Two-Bit sat down next to me. "Is it any good?"

"I've only read two pages," I told him. Knowing that he was making conversation on purpose so that I would talk. Two-Bit does that a lot.

"Do you want to see what I got today?" Two-Bit asked me, his happy grin changing to a mischievious one. I shrugged my shoulders and he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black handled switch blade.

"That's tuff," I said in awe as he flipped the blade open.

"I spent two hours wandering around the hardware store to get it," Two-Bit said proudly. "I know that place like the back of my hand now and it was well worth it."

"Are you going to use it?" I asked.

"In a fight? Oh no, this is just a show piece," Two-Bit answered. "I'd be crazy to want to use this baby in a rumble. I worked to hard to get it."

I knew that to him, wandering around a store for a few hours just to slip something under his leather jacket and walk out with it is hard work. But, I also know that he's so slick, he could have just walked into that hardware store, grabbed the black handled switch blade and walked out right away with no one suspecting a thing. He never lets on that he's stealing anything, and sometimes, he'll buy something like a pack of gum just so that the people working think that's all he came for when he's really walking out the door with a couple of magazines tucked under his jacket. Magazines that would make your face turn red in embarrassment even if no one else is in the room.

"Don't you want to go to my place to spend the night?" Two-Bit was asking me. "It gets awfully chilly out here at night now."

"I don't know Two-Bit," I said slowly, not wanting to say no but not wanting to say yes either. "I kind of wanted to read some more and I don't want to disturb your mom and sister."

"Shoot kid, they won't mind," Two-Bit replied as he lit up a cigarette. "Besides, my mom has been asking why I always spend time at the Curtis's instead of bringing my friends over to our place. She'd like to see you."

"And Karen?" I asked, thinking of TWo-Bit's nine year old sister.

"She'd be thrilled to have you there. You know how she likes to bug you and the other guys when you come over," Two-Bit said fondly. "But don't let her know that I told you that. So, are you coming over or not?"

I sighed as I stood up. "I might as well. Knowing you, I'll end up going anyway."

"You got that right," Two-Bit said as he returned his new blade to his back pocket. "And to think, you were going to sleep out here when you have other places to go to. All you have to do is show up and ask if you can spend the night, you don't have to sleep in the lot."

"I know," I muttered.

"So why don't you?" Two-Bit looked at me as we walked and I shrugged. "Kid, someday we're going to have you and Ponyboy talking so much that we'll be begging both of you to stop. The two of you are so quiet; it would be nice to know what your thinknig once in awhile."

I didn't reply as we turned down the street that led to his house because I knew that I didn't need to. Two-Bit was done trying to get me to talk for the night and he had already started to tell me stories about the customers who had been in the hardware store while he was wandering around there earlier that day.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey ma," Two-Bit said when we entered his house. "Johnny is going to spend the night."

Mrs. Matthews smiled at me as she put her rust colored hair into a ponytale. "Well, I wish I could stay, but I have to go to work now."

"I thought you had the night off," Two-Bit said to her.

"I did," she replied. "Dorothy called in sick."

"Again?" Two-Bit asked. "That's the third time this week."

"Supper is on the stove and Karen is in her room with Angela," Mrs. Matthews said as she picked up her purse. A minute later, she was walking out the front door.

"Karen, did the two of you eat yet?" Two-Bit yelled as he led me into the kitchen.

A few seconds later, his younger sister appeared next to me wearing a red blouse and a navy skirt. She looked like their father while Two-Bit looked like their mother. Only their eye color was the same.

Angela leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. She was the youngest Shephard and liked to think that she was just as tough as her two older brothers. If she had her way, Tim would let her be involved with his gang, but he says she's too young. I think he's hoping that she won't become like him and Curly.

"I'll take that as a no," Two-Bit said. "Oh, Johnny's staying over, so don't bug him."

"I never bug Johnny," Karen said as she playfully punched my arm.

"Oh right," Two-Bit nodded and winked at me. "You only like bugging Ponyboy because you think he's cute."

"I do not!" Karen yelled. "Angela is the one who thinks he's cute."

I hid a smile. Two-Bit was just giving her a hard time. That was something he did a lot when he was at home and Karen enjoyed it as much as he did.

"Mom made spaghetti," Two-Bit announced.

"Any garlic bread?" Karen asked.

"No, but we have regular bread and butter," Two-Bit replied.

"It's not the same," Karen said and Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "We should have garlic bread."

"Well, it's all we have," Two-Bit said. "So take it or leave it."

"Do you have any beer?" Angela asked.

"We have root beer," Two-Bit replied.

"What about the real stuff?" Angela asked.

"You're not drinking real beer, Angela," Two-Bit said as he put a heaping pile of spaghetti on his plate and covered it with sauce.

"Tim lets me," Angela pouted as she looked at me. "I'll bet Johnny would let me have one if I was at his house."

I wouldn't let her or any of my friends drink at my house. I've seen the outcome of drinking way to many times and besides, if my folks ever found any of their beer missing, I'd get the tar beat out of me. Beer is the one thing that my parents keep track of, even if they can't always remember how much they've had to drink each day.

"Correction little lady," Two-Bit said. "I know Tim doesn't let you drink. I also know that he'd pound my head in if I so much as give you a sip of beer. So, the only kind of beer you'll be drinking here is root beer."

"I thought you were the fun one," Angela grumbled as she sat down across from Karen at the table to eat.

"I am fun," Two-Bit said with a big grin. "Just not stupid. Johnny, aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," I replied.

"You hardly ate anything during lunch," Two-Bit told me. "So, you can't tell me that you're not hungry. Go ahead and make yourself a plate of spaghetti."

Angela and Karen both looked at me with curiosity. They didn't see me as often as Two-Bit did and I usually only saw Angela's brothers if I was with Dally. So, neither of them was as familar with my home life as Two-Bit was.

"Well, are you going to eat or not?" Angela asked.

I sighed and went to get some spaghetti before sitting down at the table. As I ate, I was reminded that eating at Two-Bit's was nothing like eating at the Curtis home. For one thing, Two-Bit spent the entire time teasing his sister. And they seemed to have this ritual of seeing who could burp the loudest which is something they only do when their mom isn't home. While they had their little contest, Angela and I ate in silence.

"Don't you ever take that stupid jacket off?" Angela asked after a while. "Every time I see you, you have it on."

"Angela, if he wants to wear his jacket, let him," Karen said. "He'll take it off when he's ready."

"I was just asking," Angela replied. "I didn't ask him to take it off, did I?"

I took off my jacket anyway and when I did, I saw Two-Bit gaze at the new bruise on my right forearm. He had already seen it earlier that day, but that didn't stop the brief flash of anger in his eyes. Karen and Angela on the other hand only looked at me as if I was crazy for not removing the jacket earlier.

"Did you get in a fight?" Angela asked me when she finally saw the bruise.

I looked at Two-Bit for help. I don't like talking about my home life that much and I don't like to get into fights.

"He walked into a pole checking out a cute girl," Two-Bit said and I raised my eyebrows at him. He knows that didn't happen. But, I guess he couldn't think of anything better.

"Um, I think I'm going to go read some more of that book Pony loaned me," I said as I stood up.

"Sure," Two-Bit said. "You can read in my room. Just don't try to clean in there."

I nodded as I left the room and went to Two-Bit's room which probably had more junk in it than the city dump. Stepping over piles of clothes and other mysterious items, I made my way to his bed on the other side of the room. The bed was the one thing in the room that wasn't covered in junk and I sat down on it to read. While I read, I could hear Karen and Angela talking in the bedroom next door and the sound of the television playing in the living room. Two-Bit did poke his head in the room a few times to ask if I wanted anything, but I just shook my head. All I wanted to do was read a few pages of the book and try to understand what I was reading. Besides, Two-Bit didn't need to get me anything. He was already letting me use his bed for the night and I was grateful for that.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Two-Bit brought me to my place so I could change. Unlike Ponyboy, he was no where near my size. When we got to my house, he offered to come inside with me, but I told him not to. I didn't want him to see the inside of the house. The outside was embarrassing enough.

"Well, if that's what you want," Two-Bit said with a shrug as he sat on the front steps. "I'll wait here for you."

"Alright," I mumbled as I walked inside the house and closed the door behind me.

I quickly went to my room and changed, avoiding the coffee table that was flipped over and the beer bottles that had rolled across the floor in the process. A sight that wasn't unusual at my place. Once I had on clean jeans and a black t-shirt, I went back outside where Two-Bit trying to ride my old bike.

My parents didn't even get me the bike. It had been a gift from a lady that used to live next door to me because she saw that I was feeling left out when Soda and Steve would ride their bikes down the street. Mr. Curtis taught me how to ride the bike while Soda cheered every time I went a little further without falling off.

"When was the last time we rode our bikes?" Two-Bit asked.

"Before we thought we were too cool for them," I suggested.

Two-Bit grinned. "Well, where should we go? We could go see if we can find a blade for you, too,"

"I have one," I reminded him, even though I never have it on me.

"We could go see what the guys are doing," Two-Bit suggested. "Maybe we can play football in the corner lot."

I nodded my agreement and followed him to his car. It was always fun playing football with the guys. Darry, Ponyboy, and I were always a team while Two-Bit, Soda, and Steve were the other team. That's how it always worked out even though Soda always insisted that we were going to pick teams that were different.

"Here we are," Two-Bit announced a few minutes later.

"Well, look who's here," Mr. Curtis said, leaning on a rake. "I could use help raking the lawn."

"I'll help," I said, but Two-Bit pulled me towards the house.

"We want to play football, remember?" Two-Bit asked and Mr. Curtis chuckled.

"Maybe next time, Johnny," Mr. Curtis called after me. "Pepsi Cola's been saying that he wants to play football, too."

Two-Bit and I entered the house to find Soda and Steve tossing the football to each other while Mrs. Curtis shook her head at them. I walked over to Mrs. Curtis and gave her a hug.

"How are you, Johnny?" She asked.

"Okay," I said. "Two-Bit wants to go to the lot to play football."

"Thank goodness," she said with a smile. "Soda and Steve can play without breaking anything now."

"We didn't break anything," Soda said as he caught the football.

"Not yet," Mrs. Curtis told him. She turned to me. "Ponyboy and Darry are in Darry's room. I'm not sure what they're doing, but I think they'd like to play football, too. Why don't you go ask them."

I walked to Darry's room and knocked on the door before entering. Darry was reading a book while Ponyboy was drawing in his sketch book that his father had bought for him.

"Hi Johnny," Darry greeted me.

"Um, we're going to play football in the lot," I said, feeling shy even though I saw them all the time. "Do you want to come?"

Ponyboy stood up. I knew he would. He likes playing football in the lot as much as I did.

"Sounds good to me," Darry said with a grin.

"Did you stay at your place last night?" Ponyboy asked as the three of us returned to the living room.

"No, I ended up at Two-Bit's," I replied.

"You poor thing," Steve said and I knew he was kidding. "Well, let's go get this game started."

"Yes, go outside and play with that thing," Mrs. Curtis said with a laugh. "I have cleaning to do in here."

"Mom, the house is clean," Soda said.

"A home can always use extra cleaning," Mrs. Curtis replied. "And believe it or not, magic fairies don't wash your clothes and put them on your bed for you to put away."

"I know that," Soda said. "We'll be back later."

"Well, aren't I the luckiest mom in the world?" Mrs. Curtis teased. "Bye boys. Don't get hurt."

I walked between Darry and Ponyboy while the other three ran ahead of us. Tossing the football to each other as they ran.

"So, you stayed at Two-Bit's last night?" Ponyboy asked. "How was it?"

"It was alright," I replied. "His sister had Angela Shephard over for the night."

"Curly's little sister?" Ponyboy asked.

"She's only a few months younger than you," Darry pointed out.

"She's still Curly's little sister," Ponyboy said. "Wouldn't she be in the same grade as me if I hadn't been moved up a year back in second grade?"

"I believe so," Darry replied before looking at me. "It's nice to know that you had a place to stay last night. Our mom hates the thought of you sleeping outside in the lot. Especially now that the weather is getting colder. She'd rather have you come to our place than stay outside in the cold."

"I don't want to burden anyone," I said softly.

"Johnny, you are never a burden," Darry told me. "We all care about you."

"Yeah, even though your own parents don't," Ponyboy mumbled.

"Pony," Darry said in a warning tone.

"Sorry," Pony said. "But it's not fair how they treat you, Johnny."

"No," Darry agreed. "Unfortunately, there's a lot of things in life that aren't fair."

Boy, that was true. As a greaser, I was reminded of that all the time. And my home life didn't make that any easier.

"Hurry up you guys!" Soda yelled from the lot. "We'd like to play today!"

"You mean you'd like to lose today?" Darry asked as the three of us jogged towards the others.

"We can beat you," Soda said.

"Okay, little buddy," Darry said. "Let's get this game started. Same teams as last time."

"Sounds good," Two-Bit replied. "You three always play by the rules."

"Someone has to," Ponyboy replied and I saw him look over at Steve. Steve was the only one on the other team that tried to play by the rules while Two-Bit and Soda did everything they could to cheat.

"Well, let's get this game started," Steve said. "Losing team has to treat the other team to sundaes at the tastee freeze."

"Sounds good to me," Darry replied.

"No fair," Two-Bit said in a whiny voice. "You're the only one of us with a job."

"So?" Steve asked. "Darry's the only one on their team with a job."

"Yeah Two-Bit," Ponyboy said and I was almost surprised to see him agree with Steve. "Steve's right. Besides, I've been wanting a hot fudge sundae."

"I'll let you have some of mine since my team is going to win," Soda told him with a wink.

I glanced at Darry who was patiently waiting for the others to line up so we could start the game. Soon, we were playing football and having a good time. We played for an hour or two and my team ended up winning, not that anyone minded.

"You owe me a hot fudge sundae," Ponyboy said to Soda with a grin when the game was over.

"Sure Pony," Soda said.

"What about you Johnny?" Steve asked me. "What would you like to have from the Tastee Freeze?"

I shrugged my shoulders and Steve smiled.

"You don't have to decide now," he said. "I don't even know when we're going."

"Later tonight," Darry spoke up. "That way, you three can't back out of the bet."

Ponyboy and I exchanged a grin. Usually, I don't like taking things from people, but a bet is a bet. Besides, I didn't always get to go to the Tastee Freeze. It would be nice to have a sundae for a change. And it would keep me out of my house longer.


	10. Chapter 10

The Tastee Freeze was busy when we arrived later that evening, which isn't unusual since it was one of the few places in town that both socs and greasers went to. Even the middle class kids went there.

I saw some people that I knew from school, but I was sure that they didn't know who I was. I can usual walk through the halls and sit in class without anyone noticing that I'm there unless I'm with one of my friends. It probably wouldn't be any different outside of school.

"What are you getting, Johnny?" Steve asked.

"A banana spilt," I replied. It wasn't everyday that I got to have a sundae and a banana split sounded like a good choice.

The waitress arrived and took our order, somehow managing to ignore Two-Bit's attempts to flirt with her. She took our menus and walked away, her blonde ponytail swaying as she walked.

"What are you all doing here?" We all looked up to see Dally pulling up a chair and sitting down at the table.

"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Steve asked.

"Shoot, I'm just here out of boredom," Dally said with a yawn. "I spent most of the day at Shephard's, but then his little brat of a sister decided to bug us."

"We're here because Soda decided to bet Darry earlier when we were playing football," Steve said, glaring across the table at Soda. "Losing team has to buy the winning team sundaes."

"That was dumb," Dally commented. "Even I know that Darry's team always wins, and I rarely play with you guys."

I gave Dally a look af admiration, but knew that he didn't see it. He always told it like it is and didn't take garbage from anyone. For some reason, I admired that even though I could never be like that. I'm not even sure if I would want to be like Dally, but I still admired him. He was everything that I never could be. Tough, cool, and smart. He knew the score and that was something worth liking.

"Do you want anything?" The waitress asked Dally when she arrived with the sundaes.

"A hot fudge sundae, extra hot fudge and don't forget the nuts," Dally replied.

I ate my banana split, eating the whipped cream first. As I ate, I could almost remember the time my folks had brought me there. I don't remember why they had took me out for ice cream. Maybe it had been my birthday, or maybe my old man wanted something to eat after some Cherokee meeting. All I knew was that I had sat on the booster seat and ate a dish of vanilla ice cream, and that I was still too young to understand that trips to the Tastee Freeze with them would be unheard of after that. Drinking would become the main source of their spending if it wasn't already.

"Johnny, how's your banana split?" Darry asked, breaking into my thoughts.

"It's good," I said.

"What are we doing after this?" Soda asked.

"Going home," Darry answered. "You and Pony have school in the morning."

"Don't remind me," Soda mumbled as he finished the last of his sundae. "Maybe I'll get sick before then."

"Don't count on it," Darry said. "You know mom won't let you stay home unless you're in the bathroom throwing up."

"What's wrong with school?" Ponyboy asked.

"Being dumb," Soda whispered and I noticed that Ponyboy pretended not to hear him. Ponyboy never liked to hear Soda say that he was dumb, but he didn't understand that Soda's teachers always expected him to live up to the standards that Darry had set. I almost could, because I saw it first hand. Ever since grade school, teachers would compare him to Darry while I was labeled dumb because it took me longer than others to understand stuff. Steve was lucky, he got to be in the average classes where they didn't seem to judge you as much.

"You're smart, Soda," Darry said. "I know you are."

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "Those teachers don't know anything."

Dally sighed and stood up. "I think I'll head out. Are you coming, Johnny?"

I stood up, buttoning my jacket. "I'll see ya'll later."

"Bye Johnny," Ponyboy said and the others gave a small wave as I went to catch up with Dally who was already walking out the door.


	11. Chapter 11

I woke up the next morning in the vacant lot. I had gone there after an attempt to go home, only to hear my folks screaming at each other. I could have stayed with Dally. He would have found a place for us to stay, but I chose to go home instead. An image of Dally's face flashed across my mind as I remembered how he told me that I was stupid to want to go back to my house. I wondered if he ever wanted to go back to his house or if he just liked to sleep wherever he could. I didn't even know that much about his folks. Just that Dally claims that his father doesn't care about what he does. I wondered if that was true.

"Hey, Johnny."

I looked up only to find Steve sitting down next to me. He was wearing his DX shirt and holding the hat in his hand.

"Hey," I replied.

"Did you sleep out here?" He asked. "Glory Johnny, it's got to be getting cold out at night."

"I manage," I said with a shrug. "I was going to try to sleep at home in my own bed, but I heard my folks fighting before I even reached the house."

"You know you don't have to stay out here," Steve told me. "You can stay with any of us. There's no reason for you to sleep outside in the cold."

It had occurred to me that I could go to the Curtis's, but it was late when I had tried to go home. I wasn't going to invite myself over in the middle of the night.

"Sometimes, I wish I could give your folks a piece of my mind," Steve said. "Just once, I'd like to tell them what I think. Don't you ever get mad at them, Johnny? Even just a little?"

"I get mad at them," I answered. "All the time. It isn't fair that they drink and fight all the time, but there's not much I can do about it."

"I was talking about how they treat you," Steve replied. "Surely, you can't go through that and not be a little angry."

"If I allowed myself to always be mad at them, I wouldn't be any better than they are," I said. "And I wouldn't be any better than Dally either. It can't be that much fun to be mad at the world."

Steve glanced at me in surprise. "I thought you admired, Dally."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I have to be like him. It's not my idea of a good time to break laws and end up in the cooler. To be honest, I hope I never have to see the inside of the cooler."

"I hope you never have to see it either," Steve told me. "It's not a great place to be."

I remembered that Steve had spent the night in the cooler not too long ago. I wasn't sure why he had been brought to the station, and he didn't talk about it. All I knew was that he wasn't proud of getting locked up like Dally usually is.

We arrived at the DX and the only worker there waved at us. "Hey Steve, ready for another fun day?"

"Hey George," Steve said. He turned to me. "I should go clock in. Do you want a soda?"

"Nah, I'll let you go to work," I replied.

Steve nodded. "Well, I'll see you later. Thanks for walking with me. It gets boring walking by myself."

I grinned. It was nice spending some time with Steve, even if it was for a few minutes. Usually when we were together, someone else from the gang was there too.


	12. Chapter 12

After I left the DX, I decided to go home. There wasn't much else I could do, except wander around for a few hours. Everyone else in the gang was busy. At least until the Curtis family got out of church. I sometimes wondered why Mr. and Mrs. Curtis insisted that they attend church every week while other parents didn't seem to care about it as much. My folks certainly didn't care if I went to church or not. As far as I knew, they only went to church for my aunt's wedding and maybe a funeral or two.

I arrived at my house and opened the front door to find the usual scene of broken bottles on the floor. My old man was sleeping on the couch like he usually did. He didn't even wake up when I closed the door behind me and walked past him on my way to my bedroom. It was almost as if I was walking in the eye of a tornado because I knew from experience that once he was up and drinking, the storm would get bad again and if I stuck around, I would get sucked into it.

"Where are you going?"

I stopped outside my parent's room and looked inside to see my mother looking at me. "To my room. I need to change clothes."

"Well, would you mind going out and getting me a pack of cigarettes?" She asked and I stared at her because it wasn't often that she spoke to me in a calm voice like that. "Just take the money out of my purse and pick up some of that candy your father likes. You know, the black licorice instead of the red?"

"Yes, I know," I replied, feeling a little confused by the conversation. Normally, I wasn't asked to do anything, instead I was commanded to do it. So, to have my mother act calm and even a little nice towards me felt funny.

I decided to get the money and go get the cigarettes and candy before she changed her mind. Besides, I needed to get cigarettes for myself anyway. As I left the house, I looked over my shoulder, half expecting my father to suddenly wake up and demand where I was going, but he didn't.

There was a corner store about a half mile from my house. The owner was one of the few adults who didn't mind having greasers enter the store. I wasn't sure if it was because he needed the business or if he just liked having young people around would at least pretend to listen to his stories about what life was like when he was growing up. He never seemed to notice when Dally would make comments under his breath or if Two-Bit swiped something off the counter.

"How can I help you today, Johnny?" He asked. That was another nice thing about the store. The owner took the time to call you by name.

"I just came for two packs of Camels and some black licorice," I replied.

"Haven't seen you around here lately," he said as he put everything into a small paper bag.

"I haven't had much money to spend," I said.

"I know what that's like," he told me. "Have I ever told you about the Great Depression?"

He had, but I shook my head anyway. I knew he enjoyed telling his stories and I figured it wouldn't hurt if I waited a few minutes before going back home with the cigarettes and candy. Soon, he was telling me about his days in the war.

"I should let you go," he said once he was finished. "Don't want your folks worrying about you."

I mumbled a quick thanks and left the store. It only takes about ten minutes to get home from the corner store.

"What took you so long?" My mom asked when I handed her the cigarettes and candy.

"Long line," I replied, even though I had been the only person there.

"That Curtis kid came asking for you," she said as she opened her pack of cigarettes. "He seems like a nice boy. Very polite."

"He is," I said.

"Too bad he's a little hoodlum like all your other friends," mom commented and I bit my tongue to keep from saying something back. Ponyboy wasn't a hoodlum. Maybe Dally was, but not Ponyboy.

"I'm going to go see what he wanted," I said, even though I knew I didn't have to. I can leave the house whenever I want. My folks didn't even care if I returned home at all. Half the time, they barely noticed when I was there, which was why it surprised me when my mom asked me to go get cigarettes. Usually, she'd just go out and get them herself as a reason to get away from my father.

I walked to Ponyboy's house, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. When I got there, I saw Mrs. Curtis working on her flower bed.

"Is Ponyboy home?" I asked.

Mrs. Curtis looked up and smiled. "He's in his room. Do you think your mom would like a few mums? You could bring them home with you later."

"I don't know if my mom likes flowers," I replied. The only flowers I ever saw in our yard were the dandelions that grew in the spring. I used to pick them for my mom when I was little just like the kids did for their moms. I don't remember if she put them in water or not. Maybe she just threw them into the trash.

I walked inside the house and went to Ponyboy's room, knocking on the door befor entering.

"You didn't have to knock," Ponyboy said when I closed the door behind me. "No one else does."

"I hear you came to my house."

"Yeah, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over," Ponyboy told me. "You're mom didn't seem to like me much."

"She asked me to get cigarettes," I said. "That's why I wasn't home."

"I thought she was going to scream at me to leave," he said. "I don't like going to your place. I'd rather go to Steve's and here his old man yell at him, even though I know that isn't right either."

I looked out the window and saw Darry helping Mr. Curtis with some yard work. "My mom was almost nice to me today."

Ponyboy looked at me. He knows that I want my parents to love and accept me. That I want nothing more than to have a family like his. It wasn't that he had a perfect family, but compared to mine, it was pretty close.

"That's good."

"I wish it could be like that all the time," I commented. "No yelling. No fighting. It was a nice change."

"Too bad it'll go back to how it usually is," Ponyboy said for me and I nodded.

Things always went back to how they usually were. It wasn't often that either my folks were somewhat nice to me. Every time they were, I had a glimmer of hope that they'd continue to be nice and that the fighting and abuse would finally stop. I knew that I shouldn't get my hopes up, but I always did. Despite the reality of my situation always coming back to hit me, I always had hope that things would eventually change for the better. Maybe it was that little bit of hope that kept me going. I wasn't sure if I had much else to help me survive, except for maybe my friends.


	13. Chapter 13

I was right about things going back to how they usually were at my house. When I went home later that evening, I got hollered at and my old man hit me upside the head with a bottle. It was hard to tell which hurt worse, the words, or the cuts from the broken glass. I managed to grab some paper towels to hold against my head before I left the house. I knew better than to stay at home when my folks were like that.

I walked to the end of my block before I realized that I had no idea where I was going. Usually, I just went to the lot, but it was raining and I didn't want to sleep on the muddy ground. I knew I could go back to the Curtis's. They were always willing to let me stay over. I knew the same was true for Two-Bit's house. I even thought about walking over to Buck's to see if Dally was there.

"What are you doing, standing outside in the rain?"

I jumped and then realized that Steve was sitting at the corner in his car, waiting for me to get inside.

"And what on earth happened to your head?" He asked as I closed the store.

"Beer bottle," I replied. Steve could figure out the rest.

"So, I take it you're not sleeping at your place tonight tonight?" Steve glanced at me as he turned the corner.

"I guess not," I said.

"Glory Johnny, where were you going to stay? The lot? It's raining like cats and dogs out there," Steve informed me. "Keep sleeping there and you'll end up dying of pneumonia before your folks have a chance to kill you."

I didn't say anything. I knew Steve was partly joking when he said that, but he had a point. There had been a few times when I had come down with a cold after sleeping in the lot when the weather wasn't that great.

"You're coming to my place tonight," Steve said and I looked at him. "Hey, I'm not going to let you sleep outside in the rain. Even my old man isn't that heartless."

"Your folks won't mind?" I asked.

"You are too polite for your own good, do you know that? No, they won't mind," Steve replied. "You act like I live at your house or something."

"Your father doesn't exactly treat you like Mr. Curtis treats Ponyboy and Soda," I commented.

Steve smirked. "Well, we can't all live in perfect homes, can we?"

He was being sarcastic. Both of us knew that the Curtis family wasn't perfect. Although compared to our families, it was. They struggled to keep the bills paid and Soda and Ponyboy rarely got new clothes. Darry's clothes were always passed down to Soda and then Ponyboy. The few new clothes they did get were either from second hand stores or stuff that Mrs. Curtis managed to find on sale.

We arrived at Steve's house and we both got out of the car. Steve watched me carefully as we walked to the front door.

"Are you sure I can stay?" I asked.

"I'm not giving you any other options," he replied as he pushed the door open.

I followed Steve inside only to find his mother sitting in a rocking chair with a book and his father working on a crossword puzzle in the news paper. Neither one looked up from what they were doing.

"Johnny's spending the night," Steve announced as he closed the door.

"Isn't it a school night?" Mrs. Randle asked. She glanced up from her book.

"Do you want me to bring him back to his place?" Steve asked. "His folks are drunk. He can't stay there."

"I didn't say that he couldn't stay," Mrs. Randle replied. She gave me a friendly smile. "You just don't usually have friends over on school nights."

"That's because Soda would keep him up all night," Mr. Randle joked and I grinned. I didn't know that Mr. Randle could have a sense of humor. Steve rarely mentioned the good things about his father. Then again, I rarely mentioned the good stuff about my father either. Not that there was much to tell.

"Come on Johnny," Steve said as he led me to his room. "I think I have some clean clothes that you can wear to school tomorrow and an extra pair of pajamas. My grandmother made me a pair of red pajamas for my birthday and I don't wear them."

"She made them?" I asked.

Steve opened a dresser drawer and pulled them out along with the ones I knew he usually wore because he sometimes wore them at the Curtis home when he slept there. "She knit them. I know, they're not the greatest, but it's better than nothing. And they're warm. My room gets cold at night."

"I'm used to it. Remember, I usually end up sleeping in the lot?"

"Which is probably where you would be now if I hadn't stopped to pick you up," he commented with a knowing grin.

"At least the lot is quiet," I replied.

"I guess your house does get pretty noisy with all the fighting, doesn't it?" Steve asked. "Soda told me once that they can hear your folks at their place."

"I know," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

"Johnny, you know you can come to any of our houses," Steve reminded me. "Shoot, even Tim would let you stay with them if you asked. You don't have to go to that vacant lot or the park all the time."

"I don't want to be a burden on anyone," I told him.

"None of us are going to think that you're a burden. Just because your folks can't get it through their heads that you deserve to be treated better doesn't mean that your friends and their families don't realize that."

I just nodded and sat on the bed, pushing a car magazine to the side. I knew Steve and my other friends had a point. All of them insisted that I could stay with them instead of in the lot when I couldn't sleep at my own place. Still, I couldn't help feeling guilty at the thought of just showing up on one of their door steps, asking if I could spend the night. Their lives were enough without me intruding on them.


End file.
